BOOK ONE – MONADOPHILIC TOPICS
CHAPTER ONE – FIRST FREEDOM
THIRD TOPIC – Beyond the search for this truth, do not get involved with anything in excess
Very well, First Freedom must not only be sought, but once obtained to any degree, it must be maintained. We cannot philosophize without being aware of the reality of human life, full of vicissitudes and demands. This has already been said here, you yourself have already asked about it. And I have already explained that we must do our best and understand that our moral choices weigh on our freedom to philosophize. Now, our search for this First Freedom must not alienate us from a reality that falls short of philosophical interests. And it is a matter of moderation: beyond the search for this truth about Being and the meaning of all things, we should not get involved in anything in excess. Obtaining philosophical freedom, but also maintaining that freedom, is what it’s all about. “Nothing in excess” is the moderation that does not allow us to deviate and get bogged down in any aspect of human life which, I repeat, continues to be complex and full of realities that demand our attention, our disposition, etc. Anyone who wants to pursue great ambitions at the same time will be frustrated. You cannot serve two masters. Moderate and content with a simple life, we can remain as free as possible to philosophize, unhindered. This is it. You can ask your questions.
Ethan (The Skeptical Empiricist): This sounds reasonable, but what exactly defines excess? Is there an objective criterion for when something becomes excessive, or is it just a matter of personal feeling?
It is excessive everything that surpass the strict need of execution of duties of state and fulfilment of vows, in one word: obligations. If you go beyond what is mandatory, you are responsible for this excess. Lack of free time and peace of mind because of non mandatory activities, occupations, etc., is a direct responsability of the individual.
Madeline (The Secular Analytic Philosopher): That’s an interesting criterion, but wouldn’t this lead to a minimalist view of life, where people do only what is strictly necessary? What about personal projects, passions, or even acts of generosity beyond obligations—should those also be considered excessive?
If they make you depart from the search for truth and, mostly, the experience of living in Love in the Presence of God, yes. All those things must be meaningful. Spiritual life is about having meaning. You should know if something have that kind of purpose drive, or if it is motivated by more mundane, vain, void reasons.
Andrew (The Atheist Existentialist): This seems to assume that meaning must be derived from something beyond the individual—namely, from God. But what if someone finds meaning in self-expression, in art, or in human relationships? Wouldn’t those also be valid purposes, even if they don’t fit within a theistic framework? If meaning is personal, isn’t moderation also personal?
It is valid all that goes according to a certain structure of human life that is universal, and that can be identified by those who search for this level of meaning. We are following a specific path, so the First Freedom requires, as we have already seen, free and peaceful time, self-knowledge and truthness, and now the restriction of excess in other activities that could stress and distract the individual from its intellectual and spiritual progress. So, this christian philosophy path requires dedication and resilience. If you get away from this discipline, as a result you will fail in the further developments. The choice is yours.
Gabriel (The Scholastic/Neo-Thomist): This reminds me of the concept of ordered love (ordo amoris) in Christian philosophy. The idea that everything should be loved and pursued in its proper measure, with God at the highest level. Would you say that medèn ágan is a way of ensuring that one’s hierarchy of values remains properly ordered—so that lesser goods do not displace the greatest good?
Yes, but we are not still deploying any setting of values beyond the human freedom from all kinds of slavery that the world offers to us. So, it is a more strict idea, in comparison.
Laura (The Eastern Spiritualist Philosopher): I see a similarity between your idea of freedom from all kinds of slavery and certain Buddhist teachings about detachment. In Buddhism, suffering comes from attachment, and true freedom arises when one lets go of excessive desires. But your approach seems more structured, as if there’s a path with specific steps rather than a pure emptying of attachment. How would you compare medèn ágan to the Buddhist idea of detachment?
In the use that I make of the idea of “nothing in excess”, the resulting detachment means only the power to remain free to make more conscious choices, and it’s not a particular struggle against desires. The desire is not your enemy, unless it enslaves you. Can you understand?
Laura (The Eastern Spiritualist Philosopher): Yes, I understand. You are not advocating for the complete eradication of desires, but rather for ensuring that they do not enslave or control the individual. In contrast, Buddhist detachment often sees all desire as a potential source of suffering. Your view seems to allow for desire, as long as it remains in its proper place and does not interfere with the pursuit of truth and freedom. This makes me wonder—what about positive attachments? For example, a deep love for family, for one’s community, or for a cause greater than oneself? Are these not meaningful, even if they sometimes demand sacrifices that limit free time and contemplation?
Let’s fix the language here. Attachments have meaning in the direct proportion of the sacrifices that they cost. Those things must be evaluated according to a superior meaning that they must have, and this meaning can only be understood if one have enough freedom and peace of mind to consider it. So, if you depart from some particular beliefs in the value of things like family, community, or whatever cause, how can you check the truthfulness of those beliefs if your attachment to them deprives you of the free and peaceful time to reflect over it?
Mary (The Communitarian Political Philosopher): That’s an important question. If I understand correctly, you’re saying that commitments and attachments must be examined critically, and that if they consume all of one’s time and energy, they might prevent genuine reflection on their true value. However, this raises another issue: isn’t it precisely through engagement with family, community, and causes that we discover their value? For example, a person might believe in the importance of justice, but it’s only by actively participating in the struggles of their community that they truly grasp its meaning. Doesn’t too much detachment risk leading to a kind of philosophical isolation—where one becomes disconnected from the very realities they wish to understand?
This will be the subject of our next topic, we can talk about it in the proper time. What I can anticipate is that the fruit of intelligence is the power to produce understanding with the most efficient ratio of need of experience.
Charles (The Postmodern Skeptic): Interesting. You’re suggesting that intelligence allows us to understand things without necessarily needing to go through every experience firsthand. In other words, we don’t have to live every commitment or attachment to its fullest extent to grasp its meaning—we can reflect, analyze, and infer. But doesn’t that assume that understanding can exist independently of lived reality? How can we be sure that intellectual reflection alone captures the full depth of human experience? Isn’t there a danger that philosophy, when too detached from life, becomes an abstraction rather than a real guide?
First, we never talked about reflection alone. I am talking about efficiency, so, a ratio between experience and reflection. Second, not even reflection is that much important to the discovery of truth, since the source of the intellectual power is divine enlightment and inspiration. The need to preserve freedom and peace is to make it easy this relationship with the Holy Spirit. In this regard, and getting back to topic, the avoidance of excesses is important to keep this spiritual persuit clear.
Edward (The Materialist Scientistic Atheist): You’re bringing in divine enlightenment as the source of intellectual power, which assumes a theistic framework. But if we strip away the theological aspect, what remains of your argument? Is there a purely rational reason to avoid excess, aside from religious devotion? If someone does not believe in divine inspiration, what would justify adopting medèn ágan as a guiding principle?
Although that is not the line of work of Monadophily as a Christian Philosophy, a possible answer to your question could be the virtue of Moderation and the fruit of ballance to keep Reason able to judge the meaning of things without the disturbance of the passions of human life.
Rebecca (The Orthodox Christian Stoic): That answer resonates with classical Stoic philosophy—moderation (sophrosyne) as a means to maintain the clarity of reason and avoid being ruled by passions. In Stoicism, detachment from excess is crucial for achieving inner freedom and maintaining a rational, virtuous life. Would you say that medèn ágan in your framework serves a similar function—protecting the intellect from being clouded by external distractions and inner turmoil, so that one can better perceive the truth?
Yes, if this intellect is considered not only a natural resource, but a property of our substance made in image and resemblance of the one of God, therefore, as a spiritually inspired power directly sustained and driven by Grace.
Gabriel (The Scholastic/Neo-Thomist): That aligns well with the Thomistic understanding of intellect as something participatory in the Divine Mind. If our rational faculty is not just a natural function but a gift of Grace, then maintaining its clarity through moderation is not merely a practical concern but a spiritual duty. But this leads me to a question: if the intellect is divinely sustained, then wouldn’t Grace be sufficient to keep it clear, regardless of external distractions? Why would excessive involvement in worldly matters necessarily disrupt the relationship between intellect and divine illumination? Wouldn’t God’s Grace overcome such disturbances?
It would, if God disregarded your freedom to choose to live in His Presence or not, and that is never the case. Human freedom is in the center of the spiritual meaning of life. This is why the presence of distractions, addictions, vices, obsessions, etc. is permited and why God don’t overcome this ambiental elements whitout our own desire to receive this freedom. This is why in the Lord’s prayer we learn to ask for liberation from temptation and evil, and not the mere extinction of those disturbances. We must make a choice.
Emma (The Liberal Christian Pragmatist): That makes sense—you’re saying that freedom itself is part of the spiritual process. God doesn’t just override distractions or excesses; we have to actively choose to remain free and receptive to His Presence. But then, doesn’t this mean that some level of struggle is inevitable? If temptations, distractions, and excesses exist as part of human freedom, then even the attempt to live in moderation involves an ongoing battle. How does one balance this struggle without it becoming just another form of excess—an excessive focus on resisting excess, if that makes sense?
God Himself provides you with strenght and liberation to go forward. That would be humanly impossible. In the future we can specifically talk about the difference between the SRMM (Singular Reason of Minimum Mixture) and the arbitrary excesses of mixture, to show the main role of human freedom in the choice for an easier path. The easy way was opened by Jesus, and it will be open to the end of the world, but we need to choose it willingly.
Nathan (The German Mystical Idealist): So, you’re saying that moderation is not just a practical guideline but a reflection of a deeper metaphysical order—where human freedom operates within a divine structure that offers an “easier path”, but only if chosen willingly. This idea of the Singular Reason of Minimum Mixture intrigues me. It seems to suggest that there is a balance point in how things should relate, neither too separate nor too mixed. Would you say that medèn ágan is an early application of this principle—ensuring that we do not get lost in chaotic mixtures, but also do not become rigidly isolated?
No, the SRMM is much deeper than this. For now, our purpose is just to achieve the First Freedom required to make the next steps.
Rafael (The German Mystical Idealist): Understood. So, for now, the focus is on disciplining our engagement with the world to maintain this First Freedom, rather than diving into deeper metaphysical structures like SRMM. In that case, I’d like to clarify something: if medèn ágan is about avoiding excess, does that mean we should actively limit our exposure to certain things? For example, should we consciously avoid environments, discussions, or even relationships that might entangle us too much in worldly concerns? Or is it more about internal discipline—learning how to engage with things without letting them overwhelm us?
Both things. You need to apply the learning done in the previous lesson, of the Know Thyself. Knowing yourself you can then evaluate what are the internal and external dangers that need to be avoided.
Rebecca (The Orthodox Christian Stoic): That makes perfect sense. Self-knowledge is the key to understanding what specifically poses a danger to our freedom. Some people might be more vulnerable to external distractions, while others might struggle more with internal attachments. That said, I have a final question: medèn ágan is a principle of moderation, but how does one distinguish healthy discipline from excessive rigidity? Is there a risk that, in trying to avoid excess, one might become too strict, too detached from life itself? Where is the balance?
The balance is a task of the very duty of moderation, of avoiding excess. How could one be excessively against excess? Quietism? Well, that can be excessive, and so, should be put in check as everything else.
Charles (The Postmodern Skeptic): That’s a clever answer—if moderation itself becomes excessive, then it ceases to be moderation. So, the principle is self-regulating in a way. But this makes me wonder: isn’t medèn ágan then just a circular concept? If we say, “avoid excess, but don’t be excessive in avoiding excess,” aren’t we just stating a tautology? How does one actually apply this in real life without falling into subjectivity—where everyone just decides for themselves what “excess” means?
One does this by resting in the terminal objective of moderation against excess, which is enough possession of free and peaceful time. This disciplin have this external objective, so we don’t need to get lost in the meaning of it, because what matters is to achieve the goal.
Edward (The Materialist Scientistic Atheist): So, your criterion for moderation isn’t purely subjective—it has a concrete measure: whether one has enough free and peaceful time. If someone’s life is too chaotic, too occupied, or too distracted to allow for real contemplation, then they’ve gone beyond the right limit. That’s a pragmatic standard, but I have one last challenge: What if someone claims they feel free and peaceful while living an extremely busy life—constantly working, socializing, and engaging in various activities? Would you say they are mistaken about their own condition? Or is this standard still somewhat relative?
Since my goal is to make one able to practice Philosophy, then it is easy to check that: does this busy person have the time to learn, reflect and act upon everything that we teach in this school? That can be easily checked. One that is really free have to time to listen to lessons, to read, to talk, to write, etc.
Ethan (The Skeptical Empiricist): That’s a clear and practical standard—if someone truly has free and peaceful time, they should be able to engage in philosophy without feeling rushed, distracted, or overburdened. If they claim to be free but never actually have time for deep thought, then their supposed freedom is an illusion. I think this ties everything together. Since we’re talking about practical application, let me ask: What would you recommend as the first step for someone who realizes they are trapped in excess? How does one begin to reclaim their First Freedom?
The first step is to recognize one’s own reality, then to reflect and make a decision to change it. The best steps are the very ideas of these topics in the first chapter of our current work. Have free and peaceful time, know thyself, avoid excess, and the next topic that we still have to study in the future.
Madeline (The Secular Analytic Philosopher): That makes sense—the structure of First Freedom itself provides the path forward. By following these principles in order, one gradually moves toward a state where they can truly engage in philosophy. Since we’ve covered medèn ágan in depth, I suppose my last question is this: does this process have a final point, or is it an ongoing effort? Can someone ever say, “I have fully achieved First Freedom,” or is it something that must always be maintained and refined?
You definetively could achieve a certain level of freedom that it becomes an habit and doesn’t requires too much of your attention. It can take some time to get to this, but it is achievable.
Thank you all, I see you next time.
JESUS É BOM 